Weiss Kreuz Elementary School
by Deena
Summary: All the boys are in Grade One...
1. Part 1

*************  
~*~Part 1~*~  
*************  
  
Birman stalked down the hallway, her heels clicking sharply upon the shining, snow-laden floor. She paused for a moment to readjust the mountain of papers in her arms and then continued on her way, humming 'Jingle Bells' under her breath.  
  
"Good morning Birman!" a cheerful voice called out.  
  
Manx, a fellow teacher at Weiss Kreuz elementary school, was leaning against the doorframe to her classroom, dressed in a loud Christmas-themed red dress. "It finally snowed!"  
  
Birman nodded, smiling. "The snow's beautiful, isn't it? And just awful to drive in."  
  
Manx laughed. "So true! Hey, do you think you could watch my kids for a few minutes before the bell rings? I have some work to do down at the office."  
  
Birman rolled her eyes. It was no secret that the red-haired primary teacher had a huge crush on Takatori Persia, the school's principal. "You mean like flirting with Persia?"  
  
Manx blushed. "Birman!"  
  
"Well it's not like it's any great secret," Birman remarked, snickering. "What with the way you're always ogling him."  
  
"I'm stealing your parking spot tomorrow!" Manx snapped and stalked out of the classroom.  
  
Birman smirked to herself as she stepped into the bright primary classroom and lay down her papers upon a table filled with modeling clay and paints.   
  
"Miss Birman, Miss Birman!" a distressed voice cried out. A tiny, blue-haired girl clutching a stuffed rabbit ran up to her. "Mrs. Bunny fell down in the snow and now she's all wet!"   
  
Birman gently took the sopping animal from the little girl. "Now Tot, why don't we lay Mrs. Bunny down on the heater right here? She can have a little nap and by the time recess comes around, she'll be nice and dry."  
  
Tot watched anxiously as Birman put the bunny on the radiator. "Are you sure about this, Miss Birman? Mrs. Bunny doesn't like to be left alone. She gets scared when I'm not holding her paw."  
  
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Birman reassured the girl. "It's Christmas time, remember? Santa will be watching over her."  
  
A huge smile spilled over Tot's face. "Christmas!" she cried joyously. "I want Santa to bring me a pink umbrella this year!"  
  
A hand tugged at Birman's skirt. "Miss Birman?"  
  
Birman looked down into a pair of wide eyes. "Yes, Sakura?"  
  
"Can I have some purple paint?"  
  
"Not right now honey. Painting time comes later."  
  
"But I don't *want* to paint with it," Sakura cried. "I just want to dye my hair purple!"  
  
Birman arched an eyebrow. "Now why would you want to dye your hair purple?"  
  
"I want to be like Aya!"  
  
Birman glanced across the room where the purple-haired girl was coloring with Asuka. "Your hair is lovely like it is, Sakura."  
  
Sakura pouted. "But Ran won't like me unless I look like Aya!"  
  
"If you want a boy to like you than you have to be as beautiful as me!" a smug voice piped up. Schoen patted her wavy blond hair and added, "I'm going to be a model when I grow up because I'm beautiful."  
  
Sakura brightened. "I'm going to marry Ran when I grow up!"  
  
"He'll never marry you," Schoen sniffed disdainfully. "You're as ugly as a skunk!"  
  
Sakura started to cry.  
  
"Schoen, that wasn't very nice!" Birman snapped.  
  
Schoen shrugged and tossed her hair. "My mommy told me that I wasn't allowed to lie."  
  
Hell rushed into the classroom, trailing her wet schoolbag behind her. "I memorized up to Unnilhexium in the periodic table of elements!"  
  
Birman felt a headache coming on.  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  
"And I stayed up 'til TEN O'CLOCK watching the soccer game!" six-year old Hidaka Ken bragged. "It was awesome! Italy kicked Brazil's butt. I watched the whole thing and I didn't even feel sleepy once!"  
  
"Yeah, so what?" seven-year old Bradley Crawford shot back. "I stayed up with my dad watching 60 minutes and Business Venture until TWELVE O'CLOCK! And then I checked my stocks in the paper and my holdings rose $23.59 in shares!"  
  
Ken stared at blankly at the dark-haired boy clad in an impeccable cream-colored suit. "You're weird," he finally said.  
  
Bradley sniffed petulantly and resumed reading 'The Wall Street Journal'. "And you're uncouth."  
  
Ken opened his mouth to shout back but he didn't know what 'uncouth' meant.  
  
"I can't find my sharpener!" little Nagi wailed, pewter eyes misting up. "It's my new 'The Cat Burglar' sharpener that my mommy gave me for my birthday!" The small boy began to cry.  
  
Schulderich snorted as he brushed his hair. "Shut up crybaby."  
  
"Don't tell him to shut up, you big meanie!" Omi cried, glaring at the redhead. He sat down beside his best friend and gently put his arm around the weeping boy. "Don't cry, Nagi. You can use my sharpener until we find yours."  
  
Nagi sniffed, watery eyes hopeful. "Really?"  
  
Omi smiled and nodded. "Really. I'll ask Yohji to help us."  
  
"Help with what?" Yohji whispered, looking around. He was partially hidden behind Miss Birman's coat rack, clad in his customary navy blue trench coat and black detective hat. Yohji liked to solve mysteries and he wanted to be a detective when he grew up.   
  
"You moron," Schulderich snapped as he began to fix the bandana in his hair. "Everyone can see you behind that coat rack."  
  
"Someone stole my 'The Cat Burglar' sharpener!" Nagi bawled in despair.  
  
Yohji bounded to the table that Omi and Nagi shared. "Describe it to me," he ordered, pulling out a raggedy notepad and a pencil.  
  
"HEY YOHJI!" Ken yelled. "Did I tell you that I stayed up 'til-"  
  
"Not now Ken!" Yohji interrupted impatiently. "I'm on a case!" He frowned as he chewed on the tip of his pencil. "How do you spell 'sharpener'?"  
  
Ken was crestfallen until he saw his best friend Ran stomp into the room. "Hey Ran!" he called excitedly, running up to his best friend. "Guess what I did...hey you're all wet!"  
  
"That stupid Takatori Reiiji splashed me and Aya-chan in his car when we were walking to school!" Ran narrowed his violet eyes and scowled. "I yelled 'Shi-ne Takatori' and threw a snowball at his ugly car but he was driving too fast. But next time, I'll really get him!"  
  
Takatori Reiji was the principal at Schwartz junior high school and he was also Ran's next-door neighbor. Ran hated him because he was mean and nasty and always pinched Ran's imouto, Aya-chan's cheeks. Ran was very protective of his imouto.  
  
Ken for his part, didn't really like Aya-chan. Aya-chan always followed him around and was always trying to get him to play tea-party and dress-up and other girly games. She even once kissed him on the cheek when Ran wasn't looking and it had been gross! Ken was sure that she gave him cooties.   
  
"Hey, I know!" Ken burst out, an idea coming to his head. "Let's order a extra large pizza with anchovies to his house in the middle of the night!"  
  
Ran managed a tiny smile.  
  
Ken grabbed Ran's hand and dragged him to their desk. "Say, did I tell you that I stayed up 'til TEN O'CLOCK last night?!"  
  
"...and it was as big as my finger at least," Nagi described. He stopped for a moment. "Or maybe it was as big as my thumb. I can't really 'member all that good. But for sure it was yellow. Or was it green?"  
  
"I thought your sharpener was blue," Omi said.  
  
"How do you spell 'finger'?" Yohji wondered.  
  
"Why do you have to write everything down?" Bradley asked, peering curiously over his newspaper at them. "Why don't you just start looking for it?"  
  
"I have to keep a detailed record of all my cases," Yohji retorted, looking indignant. "It's what all good detectives do."  
  
"You aren't a good detective," Schulderich sneered. "You're just a dumb idiot who likes to wear a dress."  
  
Yohji's eyes narrowed behind his black sunglasses. "It's a trench coat!" he yelled. "And I am *so* going to be a detective when I grow up!"  
  
"No you're not," Schulderich shot back. "You can't spell and you're too dumb."  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"Are so!"  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"Are so!"  
  
"AM NOT!"  
  
"ARE SO!"  
  
Bradley rolled his eyes and pushed up his glasses. His comrades were so barbarically primitive at times. He turned back to the business section of the newspaper. He didn't want to associate with such Neanderthals.  
  
Nagi watched with big eyes as the two older boys yelled at each other. He hid behind Omi. "They're scary," he whispered fearfully.  
  
"Hey shut up!" Omi cried over the noise of Yohji and Schulderich arguing and Ken enthusiastically retelling the events of last night's soccer game to Ran. "You're upsetting Nagi!"  
  
Schulderich glared at them. "Well Nagi's just a whiny, little sissy!"  
  
Blue eyes widened. "No he isn't!"  
  
"No he isn't," Schulderich mimicked. "Who are you, his girlfriend?"  
  
"I am not a whiny, little sissy," Nagi whimpered, hurt welling up in his huge, grey eyes.  
  
"Yeah, well you know what you are?" Yohji yelled, his little face scrunched up and red with anger. "Schulderich, you're AN A*S*S!!!!!"  
  
A deathly silence descended upon Miss Birman's first grade classroom. Everyone stared at Yohji with dinner plate eyes.  
  
Yohji clamped a hand over his mouth, shocked at what he'd just said.  
  
"You said the A-word," Bradley breathed in awe.  
  
Ken tugged on Ran's sleeve. "Yohji said the A-word!" he exclaimed, bouncing up and down in his chair. "Did ya hear that Ran? Huh, huh, did ya, did ya? He said the A-word right out-loud!"  
  
"I'm telling Miss Birman on you!" Schulderich cried. "She'll give you a detention for a month!"  
  
"Well, you were acting like the A-word!" Omi fumed. "You deserved it! And furthermore, your hair is ugly!"  
  
Jade eyes widened. "It is not!" Schulderich screamed. "Take that back!"  
  
"Hey Nagi, is that your sharpener?" Ran asked in a calm voice.   
  
Nagi jumped to his feet. "Where?"  
  
Everyone followed Ran's finger. In walked seven-year old Farfarello, his soggy black snowsuit making puddles upon the floor. In one mittened-hand was clutched Nagi's 'The Cat Burglar' sharpener.  
  
"Hey, that's Nagi's sharpener!" Omi shouted. "Give it back to him!"  
  
Farfarello began to strip out of his wet winter clothing. "No."  
  
Schulderich smirked. No one liked Farfarello except for him. He and Farfarello were best friends. Together they were the bosses of the schoolyard. "I dare you to take it back, baby-Nagi," he taunted.  
  
Nagi was very scared of Farfarello. "But my mommy gave me that sharpener for my birthday," he wailed, his chin trembling. "It's mine!"

  
"Hey, you solved the mystery of the missing sharpener, Ran!" Yohji cried, his astonishment at having said the A-word now gone. "You wanna be my detective partner? We could solve all the mysteries in the whole school!"  
  
Ran thought about it. "Can Ken come too? Me and him do everything together."  
  
Yohji looked at the loud-mouthed, hyper, clumsy boy and shook his head. "Maybe I just better work alone. Ken's way too loud to be a detective."  
  
Farfarello stared at Nagi, looking especially frightening with his new black eye-patch. Slowly, he shoved his finger in the sharpener. "This is mine now," he bit out, his voice squeaky.  
  
"It's Nagi's fair and square!" Ken hollered, leaping to his feet. In the process, he accidentally stepped on one of his untied shoelaces and stumbled. Ran, who was used to Ken's floundering ways, grabbed his arm before he could fall. Ken, undeterred, merely continued. "You stole it, ya dumb pirate!"  
  
"He's not a pirate, you clumsy freak!" Schulderich bellowed.   
  
Ran glowered. "Don't call Ken a clumsy freak!" he snapped.  
  
Farfarello sucked on his newly-sharpened, bleeding finger. "Shut up, Hidaka."  
  
"No, you shut up!" Ken shrieked. "You crazy, one-eyed thief!"  
  
"Your shoes are on the wrong feet," Farfarello calmly pointed out.  
  
Ken looked down at his grubby sneakers.  
  
"Ha ha, he made ya look!" Schulderich crowed smugly.  
  
"Are you gonna take that Ken?" Yohji demanded.   
  
With a war-cry worthy of Tarzan, Ken hurled himself onto Farfarello. Both boys began to scuffle.  
  
With all the shouting and fighting, no one heard the bell ring. Well except for Bradley but he was too engrossed in reading about internet marketing to pay any attention. And no one noticed Miss Birman come into the room.


	2. Part 2

*************  
~*~Part 2~*~  
*************  
  
"What on earth is going on in here?" she shouted sharply over the noise, hands on her hips.  
  
The was a short silence as Ken and Farfarello untangled themselves from each other.  
  
"I had nothing to do with this crass display of violence, Miss Birman," Bradley piped up, buffing his well-groomed nails upon his suit jacket. "I would never participate in such brutish activities."  
  
Birman resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Thank you Bradley. Now who can tell me what's going on here?"  
  
Yohji rushed up to Birman. "I saw the whole thing, Miss Birman," he declared. "It was oh-one hundred hours. The office was calm until the telephone rang. There was a cry of distress and I knew that my services were needed. The two suspects-"  
  
"Er...that's enough Yohji," Birman interrupted. She glared sternly at Ken and Farfarello. "Keep your hands and your feet to yourself. Does this rule sound familiar?"  
  
"It wasn't Farfie's fault," Schulderich announced, rushing to stand protectively beside the silver-haired boy. "Ken started the whole thing!"  
  
"No he didn't!" Ran snapped, glowering angrily.  
  
"Farfarello started the whole thing when he stole Nagi's sharpener," Omi tattled. "Didn't he Nagi?"  
  
The youngest boy nodded earnestly. "He did, Miss Birman, he really did."  
  
"I see." Birman knelt down in front of Farfarello. "Farfarello honey, we have a sharpener on the windowsill that everyone can use," she reminded. "You do know that right?"  
  
The boy nodded sullenly, staring at the ground.  
  
"Then why did you steal Nagi's pencil sharpener?" she prodded. "That wasn't a very nice thing to do. Stealing is wrong. You know better than that."  
  
Farfarello looked at his teacher. "Stealing hurts Santa."  
  
Schulderich snickered.  
  
"Why do ya wanna hurt Santa for?" Ken exclaimed in disbelief.  
  
"I hate Santa. He's a fat goof."  
  
Both Nagi and Omi gasped.   
  
"Everyone knows that there's no such thing as Santa," Bradley proclaimed importantly. "He's just a superstition like Big Foot and communism."  
  
"Santa is *so* real!" Omi insisted. "I saw him last year!"  
  
"If I could just investigate the North Pole, then I'd find out if he's real or not," Yohji said.  
  
"Miss Birman, Santa Claus is real, isn't he?" Nagi looked up at her with wide eyes, his lower lip quivering slightly.  
  
"Yes, he's very real," Birman lied. "I saw him lots of times when I was a little girl. Now I want everyone to get into their seats and settle down. We have a lot of work to do today. And..." She fixed Ken and Farfarello with a firm, no-nonsense look. "I don't want anymore fighting otherwise you'll both end up at the principal's office. Understand?"  
  
Both boys nodded.  
  
"Good. Now get in your seats and take out your pencils and erasers. We're going to do some writing today." She stalked away from the little desks up to her own where she began to hunt for her day planner.  
  
Schulderich sat down beside Farfarello and took his arm. "Want me to get some ice, Farf?" he asked, examining the bruise that discolored the wan flesh. "That clumsy geek made a bruise on your arm."  
  
"It doesn't hurt," Farfarello replied, staring at the bruise. "I didn't even feel it. But I know Santa's gonna hurt 'cause he doesn't like it when kids fight. He's gonna hurt real good."  
  
Schulderich remained silent as a wave of protectiveness for the yellow-eyed boy passed over him. Farfarello hated Santa because his family had been killed last Christmas in a drunk driving accident. He blamed Santa for taking them away from him.   
  
The redhead took Farfarello's hand and held it tightly. He wasn't able to bring Farfarello's parents back this Christmas but Schulderich was saving all his money to buy him a really cool blender. Farfarello always played with his mother's blender when he came over. It would make him happy, at least Schulderich hoped it would. Farfarello looked very nice when he was happy. His smile made Schulderich feel warm inside.  
  
"After school, I'm gonna bury that dumb Ken in a snow pile," Schulderich grumbled. "That'll teach him to start a fight with you."  
  
Farfarello smiled slightly and squeezed his fingers around Schulderich's.  
  
Ran pulled out the crushed box of Spiderman band-aids that his mom made him keep in his schoolbag. "I got the Hob Goblin, Dr. Octopus, The Shocker, Spider Carnage and Madam Web left," he recited. "What do you want?"  
  
Ken looked up from his torn jeans and scraped knee. "Spider Carnage all the way! He rules!"  
  
"Keep your voice down Ken," Miss Birman called out.  
  
Ran carefully bandaged Ken's injured knee. Then he glared at Farfarello. That crazy lunatic had no right to hurt Ken. Ken was only trying to help. After school, he'd teach that dumb idiot to try and hurt Ken.  
  
"Alright class," Birman said, stepping out from behind her desk to stand in the center of the classroom. She tucked a stray strand of hair back into her stylish up-do and gazed at her eight students. "Has everyone got out their pencils and erasers?"  
  
"Why can't I use my laptop?" Bradley whined. "I don't wish to use such rudimentary implements."

  
"We've been over this Bradley," Birman reminded him patiently.  
  
"Well can't I at least use a ballpoint pen?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Bradley's ding-a-ling-a-cuckoo," Omi informed Nagi, eliciting a loud giggle from the younger boy.  
  
"I'll say!" Ken chimed him, overhearing Omi. "I'd never wear a dumb suit like that even if you paid me a bazillion dollars!"  
  
"Now because we're so close to Christmas, we're going to do something different this morning," Birman continued. "I'm going to hand out some special paper and on it you're going to write nice things about the person sitting beside you. You'll be doing a different person every day and by the time you're finished, you'll   
have a list of kind comments from everyone in the class. We'll make boxes and then we'll put the comments in them. How does that sound?"  
  
"This sucks," Farfarello immediately said. "I don't want to do a dumb assignment like this."  
  
"Yes, this is rather childish," Bradley chimed in.  
  
"Well if you'd rather do something else." Birman sighed. "I do have a few pages of long division problems."  
  
"No, no, we'll do the compliments things, Miss Birman!" Schulderich shouted. "Anything but long division!" He shuddered. Long division gave him nightmares. He glanced at Farfarello. "It won't be that bad, Farf. You'll see."  
  
Farfarello blinked and shrugged. He went back to playing with his scissors. How he wished he had real scissors and not stupid, plastic Crayola Safety Scissors.  
  
Birman smirked as she handed out bright red paper with the phrase 'What I like best about ____ is...' Threats of math worked every time.

  
"What if you can't think of nothing nice to write?" Yohji demanded. He sat next to Bradley and he was such a nerd! All Bradley did was complain and call everyone 'ignoramuses'. Yohji didn't even know what an 'ignoramus' was.   
  
"Anything, Yohji, not nothing," Birman corrected as she finished handing out the papers. "Everyone here has something special about them. All you have to do is find that special thing and write about it."  
  
"But what if you can't?" Bradley asked, feeling exactly as Yohji did. He didn't like the blond one bit. Yohji was always snooping about and talking into that absurd tape recorder as though he was a real investigator. Thank God Omi had accidentally stepped on it in gym class.  
  
"Would you rather do long division?" Birman threatened.  
  
Yohji quickly shook his head. "Nuh uh!"  
  
"Then I suggest you get cracking."  
  
The class got cracking.  
  
Nagi tightened his little fingers around his pencil and printed painstakingly. By the time he finished one word, his hand hurt. And by the time he finished one line, he'd forgotten what he'd wanted to write.  
  
Omi was erasing more than printing partially because he was a bad speller and partially because his new eraser was green and the green eraser shavings were really cool. He collected all the green bits of rubber to make a little mountain in the corner of his table.  
  
Ken had his face an inch away from his paper, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he printed with fierce concentration. He printed hard and sloppily with his 'Beast Wars' pencil and so it kept breaking. His side of the desk was littered with pencil-sharpening shaving. He also erased hard, leaving behind holes in his papers and smudged words.  
  
Ran was finished in no time because he was good at printing. His work was neat and he practically had no spelling mistakes. He liked it when Miss Birman made them do printing assignments. And since Ken was his best friend, he had no trouble writing nice things.  
  
Yohji was experiencing great difficulty. He hated printing because he hated leaving two finger-spaces between each word. He also hated printing because he got confused between 'b' and 'd' and he still had trouble making 's' and 'e'. And of course he couldn't think of anything nice to write about Bradley.  
  
Bradley was the only who in the class who wrote, not printed. He was also the only one who used one line, not two. And he write with a mechanical pencil, not a normal pencil. He gazed at his handiwork and gloated. He was just so elegant and classy! He should be in, at least the fifth grade.  
  
Schulderich wanted his paper to be perfect since he knew that the other goofs in the class would write dumb things about Farfarello. As a result, he kept running back and forth to Miss Birman's desk, asking her for spelling help. He also made his paper extra special by making a really cool border design with silver and   
gold glitter glue.  
  
Farfarello was left handed and to annoy the teacher, he printed from right to left instead of left to right. His work was full of backwards words and upside down letters. There was also a great deal of staples struck randomly throughout the paper since Farfarello liked stapling.   
  
When all the printing was over and all the papers had been collected, Miss Birman announced that it was time for Show and Tell.


	3. Part 3

*************  
~*~Part 3~*~  
*************

  
Loud chatter filled the room as each child sought out their item for Show and Tell.   
  
"I love Show and Tell," Nagi declared, beaming happily. "It's my favorite time of school ever!"  
  
Schulderich snorted loudly even though he silently agreed with Nagi. He loved Show and Tell too. Afterall, he always brought the best stuff.  
  
There were some, however, who weren't so keen on the idea of Show and Tell.  
  
"Show and Tell is immature and childish," Bradley proclaimed, pushing up his glasses. "Why must I sit and watch as these ignoramuses display their juvenile baubles and trinkets? It's so undignified!"  
  
Mostly everyone ignored Bradley. They were more than used to his criticizing. He found everything, with the exception of addition and multiplication because he liked to add to and multiply his various stocks, immature and childish.   
  
Farfarello gave Bradley his meanest look and boy was it mean. "Shut up or I'll break your glasses again," he snapped coldly. He knew that Schulderich loved Show and Tell and he didn't want nerdy ol' Bradley to mess it up.  
  
Bradley shut up. His mother had been furious when he'd come home with his glasses broken. Farfarello had stamped on then when Bradley had made fun of Schulderich's hair. The bloody nose that had leaked all over his spotless suit hadn't been a thrill in the park either.  
  
Ran also didn't like Show and Tell. He didn't like talking in front of the class and Miss Birman. It made him nervous. Plus, he always blushed bright red and Yohji and Schulderich made fun of him. They called him 'tomato Ran'. He hated being called 'tomato Ran'.  
  
Birman sat down on the red wooden stool in the center of the classroom and clapped her hands. "Alright everyone, gather around!"  
  
Eight little bodies scrambled onto the furry green and yellow rug at Birman's feet. There was much squirming and shoving as everyone wormed their way into sitting beside their friends.  
  
"Who would like to go first?" Birman asked.  
  
With the exception of Ran and Farfarello and Bradley, five little hands shot into the air.  
  
"Oooh, oooh, oooh, me Miss Birman! I'll go first!"  
  
"No, no, pick me! I wanna go first!"  
  
"But you went first last time!"  
  
"No I didn't, you liar!"  
  
"I never get to go first!"  
  
"Why can't I go first?"  
  
"Alright, alright, settle down!" Birman looked around at all her students. She smiled when she caught sight of Ran trying to hide behind Ken. "Why don't you go first, Ran?"  
  
Ran blushed bright red. "Do I hafta?" he grumbled, staring down at the carpet in misery.  
  
"Look, Ran's blushing again!" Yohji told everyone loudly.  
  
Schulderich snickered. "Tomato Ran strikes again!"  
  
"Hey shut up, carrot-top!" Ken shouted.  
  
"No name calling!" Birman snapped. "Now Ran, what did you bring today?"  
  
Ran let out a long suffering sigh.  
  
Ken patted his hand. "It's okay Ran. Just show us what 'cha got."  
  
Ran pulled out his item from a plastic bag. It was a half-knitted orange sweater. "My sister's knitting me this," he mumbled, clutching desperately at the orange ball of yarn that was attached to the beginnings of the right sleeve.  
  
"How nice of your sister," Birman commented.   
  
"It looks like she made some mistakes." Omi pointed to the neck. "That part's all messed up."  
  
Yohji peered at the sweater. "My investigational skills would lead me to conclude that your sister doesn't know how to knit all that good."  
  
Violet eyes narrowed. "She knows how to knit just fine!" Ran snapped. "She's knits great! And if you say another mean word about her, I'll shi-ne you!"  
  
"No one is going to shi-ne anyone," Birman announced. "Your sweater is lovely Ran. Now who would like to go next?"  
  
Ran scowled at the room as he stuffed the sweater back into the bag.  
  
"I think it's a real good sweater," Ken whispered nosily.  
  
"Alright Omi, you can go next."  
  
"Woo hoo!" Omi shouted in genki tones. He reached into his school bag and took out a glass test tube. It was filled with a clear liquid and closed with a cork. "My older brother's a scientist," Omi explained. "He knows how to make lots of 'speriments and he has a big chemistry place in the basement. Sometimes red smoke comes from there to the upstairs."  
  
"Omi, do be careful with that," Birman said, looking apprehensive. "Chemicals aren't a toy. They can be very dangerous."  
  
"Hey, can that blow up the school?" Schulderich asked with interest.  
  
Ken, who'd been squirming, now began to bounce in his spot on the floor. "KABOOM!" he roared. "Bricks would go flying and we'd never even have to go to school for A WHOLE YEAR!"  
  
"For two years!" Yohji cried. "Then I could solve some *real* mysteries and not just the kinds at school."  
  
"Santa would hurt," Farfarello added, chewing on a rubber band.  
  
"The school is not going to blow up," Birman said sternly. "Now Omi, continue. And do not spill that, understand?"  
  
"Or it's KABOOM!" Ken hollered.  
  
"Ken be quiet!"  
  
"I forgot what this white stuff is called," Omi told everyone. "But it's got a real long name. I brought it 'cause I'm gonna do a 'speriment."  
  
"Like Bill Ny, the Science Guy?" Nagi asked, looking at Omi's test tube with wide eyes.  
  
Omi nodded importantly. "Yeah, just like Bill Ny the Science Guy." He pulled out another test tube, this one filled with a yellow colored liquid. "Can you open this, Miss Birman? I don't got enough hands."  
  
Everyone watched avidly as Birman uncorked the yellow test tube. Omi took it from her and then carefully poured the yellow liquid into the test tube with the clear liquid.  
  
"It's turning blue!" Schulderich squealed excitedly.  
  
Sure enough, the clear liquid and the yellow liquid were forming a blue liquid.  
  
Everyone clapped.  
  
"Excellent work, Omi!" Birman praised.  
  
"This is called a chemical 'action," Omi announced.  
  
"Cool!" Ken turned to Ran. "Wasn't that cool? Huh, huh Ran? It turned blue!"  
  
"Can't you do it again?" Nagi pleaded.   
  
"Yeah, that was awesome!" Yohji agreed.  
  
Omi shook his head sadly. "I don't got no more chemistry left."  
  
Even Bradley was impressed. "That was rather fascinating," he murmured, pushing up his glasses.  
  
"Yeah," Farfarello muttered, his eye glued to the blue liquid.  
  
There was a silence. No one knew quite what to make of that. Bradley and Farfarello never liked anything!  
  
Finally Omi beamed. "Thanks guys!"  
  
"Alright Omi, put the cork back in the tube and go put it on my desk," Miss Birman instructed. "We don't want any accidents."  
  
"Or it's kaboom!" Ken whispered into Ran's ear.  
  
Omi rushed to put his experiment away while Miss Birman called on Yohji to present next.  
  
Yohji held up a magnifying glass that was nearly as big as his arm. "This is the SuperMag 10005! It's the latest SuperMag and it's way better than the old, stupid SuperMag 6700. The SuperMag 10005 is a 'xclusive bright krypton magnifier that's got a distortion-free aspheric 5x lens with 10x magnification! I can read anything from anywhere and no clues go undetective when I got this!" He held the SuperMag 10005 up to his eye. "I can even read that reading poster at the   
other end of the classroom!"  
  
Everyone turned to survey the reading monkey poster that hung on the bulletin board at the other end of the classroom.  
  
"You can read it all the way from here?" Nagi asked in disbelief.  
  
Yohji nodded proudly. "Yep!"  
  
"Magnifying glasses are very powerful tools," Birman informed everyone. "What does the poster say Yohji?"  
  
Yohji frowned as he studied the poster with intense concentration. "It says...uh...I think...um..."  
  
"You're such a dummie!" Schulderich cried. He grabbed the SuperMag 10005 and held it up to his eye. "The poster says 'Go bananas over reading'. Any moron can read that!"  
  
"Gimme my SuperMag 10005 back!" Yohji shouted. "You're getting your cootie-germs on it!"  
  
"No grabbing, Schulderich," Birman said sternly.   
  
Schulderich pouted while Yohji yanked back his beloved SuperMag 10005.  
  
"Now then..." Birman cast a glance at all the remaining eager hopefuls and eager unhopefuls. "Bradley, why don't you go next?"  
  
Bradley sniffed peevishly. "Oh very well," he huffed, straightening his white tie. "If I must."  
  
"Hey, I see all the little hairs of the carpet!" Nagi cried, peering at the rug with Yohji's SuperMag 10005. "This is real cool!"  
  
"Lemme see, Nagi!" Omi peered over his best friend's shoulder. "Wow, neat! The SuperMag works!"  
  
"I told you so," Yohji bragged, smugly. "It's the best SuperMag in the market!"  
  
"Me and Ran wanna see too!" Ken piped up. "Right Ran?"  
  
"Hn."  
  
"Well if you guys are all seeing it than me and Farf wanna see too!" Schulderich shouted. "We don't wanna be left outta the action!"  
  
Birman clapped her hands loudly. "Class, you're all being horribly rude!" She frowned. "Yohji, put your SuperMag away. Your turn is over. It's Bradley's turn now."  
  
"They can't help it if they haven't evolved properly," Bradley told her, his little voice dripping with condescension. "Not everyone can be urbane and quick-witted like myself."  
  
"Bradley's boring," Farfarello stated flatly.  
  
"Boring?!" Bradley was incensed. "How dare the likes of *you* call me boring! At least I am of sound mind and health, you psychotic madman!"  
  
"Hey, you shut up four-eyes!" Schulderich bit out, jade eyes flashing.  
  
"Bradley!" Birman barked. "For one who claims to be urbane and quick-witted, name-calling is most petty!"  
  
Farfarello snickered quietly.  
  
"Now I don't want anymore of this nonsense otherwise you'll stay after school with me to wash the blackboard and clap the chalk brushes!"  
  
Bradley paled. The very idea of marring his pristine suit with chalk dust was enough to turn his stomach. "I'll take my turn now," he sighed, defeated.  
  
"Yeah, hurry up man!" Ken urged, still bouncing. "Some of us are waiting to have our turn!"  
  
Bradley rolled his eyes. "Primitive Australopithecus," he thought to himself so Miss Birman couldn't accuse him of being petty. Hmph. He was never petty!   
  
The dark-haired boy opened his leather attache case and pulled out a sleek, compact, silver cell phone. "This is my latest personal investment. Now I can keep in touch with all my business contacts at any given time."  
  
"Yeah great, can I go now?" Ken interrupted.   
  
Bradley glared at him. "No, you may NOT go. It is still my turn."  
  
"Don't interrupt Ken," Birman scolded.  
  
Bradley smirked and then continued. "Why, it was just last week when I'd heard the most nasty rumor. Certain circles were instigating that stocks in Lynchcroft had dropped 10.8% in shares! Fortunately, I had new cell phone and was able to clarify the entire mess. They were, naturally, wrong. I would never invest in a sour company."  
  
"I'd never want a cell phone," Yohji announced. "'Cause then my mom would call me all day and bug me. Its' bad enough that I hafta see her all the time at home!"  
  
There was a murmur of agreement.  
  
"That's why I didn't give mother my phone number," Bradley replied smugly. "This isn't a personal phone, it's a business phone, I told her."  
  
"Smooth move," Schulderich complimented.  
  
"Yeah, real smooth!" Ken agreed.  
  
Bradley was looked upon in awe for a few moments.  
  
"That's a lovely cell phone Bradley," Birman said, secretly envious. On her salary as a teacher, there was no way she could afford a cell phone and here one of her first grade students had one? What injustice! Perhaps she should consider asking Bradley for stock advice. "Schulderich, why don't you go next?"  
  
"YESSSS!" Schulderich yelled, grinning widely. He yanked out his item from his schoolbag and held it up. It was a shampoo bottle, filled with thick, reddish-purple shampoo.   
  
"This is Raspberry Ice shampoo," he informed everyone. "My cousin Swenja made it. She lives in Germany, near the Swabian Jura mountain range. She uses all natural ingredients and it obviously works, as you can see." Schulderich patted his hair and continued. "Not only does it add volume and luster, but it also repairs damaged hair follicles. Not that my follicles need repairing of course. The raspberry makes the shampoo smell good and it's the main ingredient that adds body and shine. The ice makes my head cold. It really does. When I'm in the shower, the water is hot but my head is freezing. [1] It's real cool!"  
  
"Gimme a break," Yohji scoffed. "How can your head get cold in the shower?"  
  
"Actually Yohji, it *is* possible," Birman spoke up. "I use a Cool Ice conditioner from the Body Shop and it makes my head very cold in the shower."  
  
"I told you so," Schulderich gloated. He looked up at his teacher. "However, I find the Body Shop Cool Ice to be inferior to my German shampoo."  
  
"Your opinion is appreciated," Birman muttered. She rubbed at her temples. How on earth had she ended up with such snobby first-graders?  
  
"I wanna have a frozen head in the shower," Ken said. "Wouldn't that be cool, Ran?"  
  
Ran grunted.  
  
"Can we smell your shampoo?" Nagi asked timidly.  
  
Schulderich passed the bottle around under the strict threat that anyone who spilled it would get beaten up by Farfarello.  
  
"This smells like the jam my mom puts on her toast," Yohji remarked.  
  
"Mmmm, yummy!" Omi exclaimed, inhaling deeply. "I could just eat this all up!"  
  
Nagi giggled. "Me too!"  
  
"Do it and die," Schulderich threatened.  
  
"What have I told you about death threats, Schulderich?" Birman demanded.  
  
Schulderich shrugged, unconcerned. "Well it's not like I get that shampoo around here."  
  
"I personally think this fragrance is rather feminine," Bradley announced, thrusting the back to Schulderich. "It brings memories of my grandmother and her seven tabby cats."  
  
Farfarello grabbed Bradley by his tie. "What. Did. You. Say?" he demanded coldly.  
  
"Nothing, nothing! It's a manly scent. Very manly!" Bradley babbled.  
  
"Hands to yourself Farfarello!" Birman snapped.  
  
"Thanks Farf," Schulderich whispered, putting his precious Raspberry Ice shampoo back into his schoolbag.  
  
"I like the smell," Farfarello commented simply. "It smells like you. Nice."  
  
Schulderich smiled happily.  
  
"Can it be my turn now?" Ken begged, squirming about. "Please Miss Birman, I can't wait another second! Pretty, pretty please with nuts and cherries and hot fudge sauce and-"  
  
"Alright Ken," Birman interrupted hastily. "You may go now."  
  
"YAHOO!" the brunette bellowed.  
  
"Hey, don't yell so loud," Yohji cried. "I don't want you to break my SuperMag 10005! It's the only SuperMag 10005 I got!"  
  
"Ken's not an opera singer," Ran snapped, scowling at the would-be detective. "He's not gonna break your stupid magnifying glass."  
  
Yohji was aghast. "The SuperMag 10005 is not stupid!"  
  
Birman's head pounded sharply. "Calm down you two," she muttered. "Now tell us what you've brought Ken."

  
Ken beamed brightly as he pulled out a muddy, grass-stained, deflated soccer ball. "This was the soccer ball they used in the Argentina vs. England game last month. It's the real thing, no fake! My dad's friend's brother's is David Beckham and he plays midfielder on Manchester United. He's the best player ever and he got me this soccer ball! It's the real thing guys!" Ken pointed to the red soccer jersey he was wearing. "This is the official Man U jersey. It's the real thing! The game was so awesome and I was so excited to get the ball from it. It's the coolest thing I ever got and it's the real thing, too! Me and my dad watched the whole game and I didn't even get sleepy! Then last night, I stayed up until ten o'clock watching the Italy vs. Brazil game!"  
  
"We know, we know," Bradley muttered, rolling his eyes.  
  
Ken was too busy yammering on to hear Bradley. However, Ran did and he scowled coldly at the at him.  
  
"...and then there was thirty seconds left in the game and I thought all hope was lost for Man U but then out of no where comes number 24, Wes Brown and he head-buts the ball straight into the net! It was awesome! And then this other time when Wes Brown-"  
  
"Ken honey, I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut you off," Birman interrupted. "It's going to be time for music class soon and Nagi and Farfarello still haven't had a turn yet."  
  
Ken pouted. "But I didn't get to tell everyone about the best part of the game!"  
  
"Thank God," Schulderich whispered to Farfarello.  
  
Ran shyly patted Ken's hand. "I'll listen to it," he offered, despite having already heard about the game three times before.  
  
Ken's little face brightened. "Thanks Ran, you're the best friend ever!"  
  
Ran blushed.  
  
"Nagi, would you like to go next?"  
  
The youngest boy in the class nodded. "My show and tell is in my desk, Miss Birman. Can I go get   
it?"  
  
"Quickly."  
  
Nagi scrambled to his feet and ran back to his desk. He returned to the group, carefully clutching a glass box in his tiny hands. He set the box down and sat down next to it.  
  
Inside the box was some water, a rock, a few plants and a bright, striped, red and black frog. There was much ooohhh-ing and aaahhh-ing. Afterall, reptiles and amphibians and crawly critters are always a big hit with little boys.  
  
"This is my pet frog," Nagi began. "He's a Red and Black Walking frog. His name is Mayfly 'cause he eats mayflies and crickets too. My aunt sent him to me for my birthday. My mom said I couldn't get a dog 'cause they stink up the house but then I got Mayfly and he don't stick up nothing. He's the prettiest frog in the whole world! I love him even more than my brother. Now I don't even want a dog no more. Lotsa people have dogs and cats but almost nobody's got a Red and Black   
Walking frog like me!"  
  
"I wanna cool frog like that," Schulderich wailed. "The only frogs I ever see are those dumb brown and green frogs down at the creek."  
  
"I used to think they were cool but they suck now," Ken cried. "I wanna red and black frog too!"  
  
"I'll give you five bucks and my white-out for it," Farfarello offered in a raspy tone.  
  
Nagi stared at Farfarello with wide eyes. "He's not for sale!"  
  
"I think he's perfectly wretched," Bradley muttered, sniffing in disdain. What a perfectly miserable pet a frog was!  
  
"Last time I went to Nagi's house, I got to hold him," Omi boasted proudly. "He jumped in my hand and ribbited."  
  
"Can I hold him Nagi?" Yohji pleaded. "I'll let you use my SuperMag 10005 on anything you want!"  
  
"The frog is not coming out of the tank," Birman said. "However at recess, if Nagi agrees, you may all have a turn holding the frog."  
  
"Can we hold him?" Schulderich asked.   
  
"Okay, but only for a few seconds," Nagi agreed. "Mayfly likes to jump around a lot. I don't wanna lose him."  
  
"Cool, man!" Ken tugged on Ran's sleeve. "Isn't that cool Ran? Are you gonna hold him too?"  
  
Ran looked at the frog in awe. "Yeah."  
  
"Alright Farfarello, we saved the best for the last," Birman quipped. "What have you brought today?"  
  
The white-haired boy reached into the plastic bag resting on his lap and pulled out...  
  
"An eggbeater?" Omi and Yohji both chorused.   
  
"This is my eggbeater," Farfarello intoned solemnly, his voice taking on a sing-song quality. "I call him, simply, 'eggbeater'. Not 'the' eggbeater or 'a' eggbeater but just eggbeater. When I put him under my pillow, I have funny dreams. And when I wake up, my head feels lumpy."  
  
Birman stared at the boy. "They get weirder by the day," she thought to herself.  
  
"Why do you put it under your pillow?" Nagi wanted to know. "Is there a eggbeater fairy?"  
  
"Oh for God sakes!" Bradley exploded. "What a stupid question!"  
  
"Asking questions is the way we learn," Omi quoted. Then he stuck out his tongue at Bradley.  
  
"Eggbeater lives under my pillow," Farfarello explained. "He's a good gadget to have cuz if any stupid junior high kids bother me, I can hit them with it. And I like to beat my milk with eggbeater. He makes lots of bubbles. And I can beat snow too."  
  
"Beating snow sounds like fun," Ken said.  
  
Schulderich smirked. "It is. Me and Farf play with eggbeater all the time. Right Farf?"  
  
"Yeah. Eggbeater is even better than my electric mixer. But eggbeater isn't as good as Schu's blender."  
  
"I like blenders too," Ran suddenly said, surprising everyone. "But my mom got mad when me and Ken put dirt and water in it to make mud."  
  
Farfarello's eye widened. "I like making mud too."  
  
Bradley shook his head in disgust. "They're so primitive I could cry."  
  
The bell rang.  
  
Birman stood up. "Okay class, Show and Tell is over. Everyone line up now. It's time for music class!"  
  
"Can we have Show and Tell tomorrow too?" Omi asked, looking up at her with huge, blue eyes.  
  
Birman resisted the urge to groan. "No Omi. Tomorrow afternoon is our Christmas party, remember?"  
  
There was a chorus of excited shouts as the class lined up.  
  
  


  
  
[1] I bought this Cool Ice conditioner from the Body Shop the other day and it's the weirdest   
thing. It really does freeze your head! The rest of you is hot from the shower water but your   
scalp is ice-cold. It's crazy stuff. This is a true story!  
  
And yes, I know nothing about chemistry, stocks or soccer. However, I do enjoy a good eggbeater  
every now and then ^^;


	4. Part 4

~*~Part 4~*~

There are times in life when five minutes can feel like three hours. Ten minutes then can equal a good seven plus hours and a whole morning plus lunchtime...well that's pretty much an eternity right there. Especially when one is forced to carry out horrible, boring tasks like double-digit addition and spelling tests and learning about vowels. Afterall, who could possibly concentrate on stupid schoolwork when there was going to be a Christmas party right after lunch? 

Clearly not eight excited little first graders.

After an eternity had passed, along with ample squirmings and whinings and shortness of tempers, the 1:30 bell rang loud and clear. Crowds of shrieking children scrambled from the snowy schoolyard into the school halls, eight of them rushing into Miss Birman's first grade classroom.

Snowsuits and hats and scarves and mittens were thrown carelessly about the coatroom since none had the patience to hang up their winter clothing...with the sole exception of one bespeckled little boy clad in an immaculate white suit. Tossing about one's London Fog longhair wool coat was _clearly_ uncouth afterall.

The classroom served only to enhance the energized mood of the children. In the reading corner stood a long Christmas tree complete with a stack of gifts Miss Birman had bought for her students underneath. The cut-out Santas and elves and bells and stockings they had colored during the week hung about the room. Next to the Christmas books Miss Birman had rounded up from the library, were a row of brightly decorated boxes filled with all the nice compliments each student had written about their classmates. The holly and berries they had made from pipe cleaner and beads last art class hung from the ceiling and dangled in the ventilation-air breeze. But by far, the best part of the classroom was the Scribbler-table Miss Birman had dragged to the front. It was covered with a vivid Christmas tablecloth and completely packed with all the Christmas goodies that the mothers had made especially for the party.

"TODAY'S OUR CHRISTMAS PARTY!!!" Ken hollered, running around in a circle on the Storytime shag rug. 

Yohji began lurking about the classroom, a Sherlock Holmes's detective hat perched on his head. "I detect the detection of exciting excitement!" He examined the food table with great interest. "Evidence of the Sugar Plum Fairy is evident!"

"CHRISTMAS CHRISTMAS CHRISTMAS!" Ken shrieked, jumping over chairs and past desks.

Bradley grimaced as he began the meticulous process of refilling his mechanical pencil with lead. "Must you act like such an ignoramus? There is no need to go windmilling about in such a boisterous manner!" 

His voice was lost in the din.

"My mom made the BEST sugar cookies EVER," Omi was busy telling anyone who would listen...namingly his best friend Nagi. "She made them in all kinds of shapes like bells and angels and stars and then she put icing and little candies on them and then I got to have some TO TEST OUT!"

Nagi was crushed. "My mom made sugar cookies too." His lower lip trembled and curved downwards. "And they're in all kinds of Christmas shapes TOO!"

Both boys stared at each other in dismay.

Nearby Farfarello sniggered loudly, his mouth full of glitter glue. "Fooogiies," he chortled and shook a plastic Santa figurine with no head at them.

"Only DORKS bring the same food to a Christmas party," Schuldich proclaimed, smirking. "That's why you guys are like _girlfriends_. BABY GIRLFRIENDS!"

"No we're not!" Nagi screamed, his wide eyes shimmering. "I'm not a baby girlfriend, NO WAY!"

"Yeah well I bet you brought FRUITCAKE," Omi snapped angrily. "That really gross kind with rum and raisins and green cherries in it! You brought fruitcake because you SUCK!"

"Your head's a fruitcake!" Schuldich retorted. 

"Your brain's a fruitcake!"

"Your pancreas's a fruitcake!"

"Oh BARF!" Ken yelled from atop his desk where he was busy swatting at the hanging pipe cleaner holly he had made. "Fruitcake is GROSS-O-RAMA!!!! There was this one time, one Christmas a really long, long, long, long time ago when my Aunt gave us some fruitcake and it was really old, like 1000 YEARS OLD and as hard as a BOULDER and my dad used it to pound a nail in wall and it cracked the whole thing open! 'Member when I showed you the crack in the wall Ran huh do ya? It's super-big, like the size of my HEAD!"

Ran nodded from his position by the front door where Ken had assigned him look-out for Miss Birman. "It's as big as Santa," he muttered in a near inaudible voice.

"Hey fatmouth, no one cares about your dumb stories," Schuldich snapped at Ken. "So shut up!"

Ran scowled at the orange-haired boy. "Why don't YOU shut up?" 

Schuldich scowled right back. "Why don't you make me?"

"You're not allowed to tell people to shut up," Nagi cried, looking scandalized. "Miss Birman said!"

"You're a baby girlfriend AND a teacher's pet too!"

Omi was not impressed. "You're RUINING CHRISTMAS!"

Farfarello looked at Ken with interest. "What kinda nail?" he squeaked out, his lips sparkling.

"What're you talking about weirdo?" Ken vaulted down from his desk. "Oh man you're not supposed to eat glitter glue! Only babies do THAT!"

"What kinda nail did your dad use? Was it a long nail?" Farfarello began coloring his arm with a broken stump of a black crayon. "Did it have rust on it? Was it crooked?"

"Who cares what kinda nail it was?" Omi demanded. "It's only a stupid nail. No one cares about a nail. What a dumb thing to ask about."

"What do you know boogerbreath?" Schuldich glared angrily at Omi. He didn't like it when people told Farfarello that the things he liked were stupid. "You're too much of a sissy to know anything important anyways!"

Nagi was fed up. "You just better stop calling people names or I'm really tellin'!"

"Oh man oh man one time me an' Ran were at the playground and there was this real BIG namecaller and all day he kept stealin' my soccer ball and callin' me 'lice face' and 'girl kisser'...EWWWWW...and so I told him-"

"HEY GUYS LOOK HERE! GUYS COME QUICK!" Yohji was kneeling beside the Christmas tree, peering through his SuperMag 10005 at the pile of presents. "HEY GUYS LOOK WE GOT PRESENTS!"

All arguments and story-telling was abruptly forgotten.

"YAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY!"

"Oh honestly," Bradley huffed, watching his fellow classmates, with the sole exception of Farfarello herd around the tree. "Such a lurid display of obvious buffoonery!"

Farfarello slid up to Bradley's desk and stuck his glitter-caked face right up in front of Bradley's. "Gimme all your lead," he rasped out in a crunchy, dried voice.

Bradley was scared. "Here take it all, it's only 0.2mm," he babbled, his glasses fogging up as Farfarello breathed on them.

Yohji was busy shaking his present experimentally, his head tilted, an expression of profound concentration etched across his face. Everyone was gathered around him, eagerly awaiting his expert opinion. Secretly, Yohji was relishing the attention. His classmates were looking to him for answers, much like a client would look to a real detective for answers! 

"What d'you think's in there?" Omi asked. 

"It's something real shaky," Yohji deduced, frowning.

"Maybe it's BLASTING CAPS!" Ken shrieked straight into Ran's ear. He began bouncing in his spot. "We could put all our ammo together and bust a hole in the school the size of CHINA!"

"We're not allowed to use blasting caps," Nagi piped up. "Remember? Miss Birman said."

"Maybe it's fizzy candies," Ran ventured quietly.

No one paid any attention to that.

"Well whatever you guys get isn't what _I'll_ get," Schuldich bragged, grabbing his own present. "Miss Birman likes me the best so I bet she gave me something extra cool. Something none of you guys got." He shook his present.

Yohji snickered loudly. "It sounds exactly the same as mine moron!"

"Miss Birman doesn't play favorites," Omi defended loyally.

"Well I think sometimes she DOES," Ken huffed. "She yells at me all day, all the time! She keeps sayin' that I talk too much and run around too much and I never did that in my whole LIFE!"

"Oh yeah never ever," Schuldich said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.  

"Shut your face," Ran snapped, looking angry.

"I still can't tell what's in here," Yohji declared. He shook the box some more. "I think my powers of deduction are kinda on the rusty side!"

"I didn't know sides could be rusty," Nagi said, puzzled.

Birman came into the classroom then, her arms filled with Christmas party things. She dumped her load onto her desk and clapped her hands loudly. "Okay folks, everyone into your seats! There'll be time for the presents later!"

There was a scuffle as everyone got sorted.

"Alright much better!" Birman beamed. "Today we're not going to do any work because it's the last day before vacation and it's also our Christmas party!"

There was a resounding cheer.

Bradley rolled his eyes. School class parties were so very tacky. In his august opinion, if there were no French-cut crystal glasses of apple juice and fancy hors-d'oeuvres and groups of knowledgeable, successful business men then it wasn't a party at all, but rather merely a _gathering_.

"I've got lots of wonderful things planned out for this afternoon," Birman went on, taking from her desk a shiny folder with a snowman on it. "But first I've got a great surprise in store for everyone. I checked my mailbox this morning and what did I find but a fat stack of letters written to you guys from Santa Claus!"

"Santa wrote us letters?" Nagi gasped, his eyes as wide as plates.

"Santa wrote us letters!" Ken bellowed, thumping on his desk in excitement. 

"This is the best Christmas party EVER!" Omi shrieked, throwing some old spelling tests around.

Some among them were not excited.

"Oh really now," Bradley groused with great chagrin. "How can a fictitious character write us letters?"

"I hate Santa," Farfarello declared, pouting. "I don't want his stupid letter. He's a dumbbell."

Schuldich tried to be supportive. "It's not as bad as all that," he soothed. "I mean it's Santa. SANTA! How many times in a lifetime can a kid get a letter from Santa? It's like a miracle Farf!"

"I hate miracles," Farfarello grumped sullenly.

"It's like a miracle on 43th street!" Yohji chimed in excitedly.

"It's _34th_ street not _43th_ street," Bradley corrected in superior tones. "Any ignoramus with half a cerebrum would CLEARLY would know that!"

"Hey take a chill pill man!" Ken burst out. "Once I losted my Spiderman comics and Yohji found them straight away for me!"

"They were in his schoolbag," Yohji informed everyone. "Sometimes a detective just gots to look in the most obvious place."

"Alright everyone settle down," Birman called out. She waited for quiet before continuing. "So here's what we're going to do. When I call your name you come up to my desk and I'll read your letter to you."

"Oh how humiliating," Bradley complained bitterly, amidst many a shrieks. "As though someone of my intellectual caliber needs to be read to!"

"Alright then let me see..." Birman dug out the first letter. "Yohji you're up first."

"Aw man no fair," Omi moaned loudly. "I wanted to be first!"

"Buncha babies," Schuldich whispered to Farfarello who was still glum with dismay.

Grabbing his trusty notebook in one hand and his SuperMag 10005 in the other, because a detective always had to be prepared, Yohji scrambled up to Miss Birman's desk. He sat down on the little red stool and peered up at his teacher through his magnifying glass. "You sure it's the real thing ma'am? Could be a forged document you know."

Birman smiled. "It's the real thing Yohji. I can tell."

"But I should examine it just in case, don't you think?" Yohji earnestly straightened his Sherlock Holmes' hat. "There might be some kinda of villainy afoot!"

"Uh right." Birman handed the letter to the blond boy and watched as he scrutinized it extensively. Upside down.

"Alright it's legit," Yohji declared with great satisfaction, handing the letter back. "Case close!"

"I'm glad to hear it." Birman cleared her throat and began reading the letter. "'Dear Yohji. Merry Christmas to you! I received your letter only just yesterday. Sadly I will not be able to bring you a home autopsy kit being as I seemed to have run out of this year's stock.'"

"Aw shucks!"

"'But since you've been such a good boy this year, I will do my best to bring you the skeleton key, the self-fingerprinting kit and the lie detector testing machine you asked for. See you Christmas night! From Santa Claus, North Pole.'"

"Wow cow!" Yohji's eyes were shining from behind his plastic X-Men Cyclops sunglasses. "Now my ma's really gonna gotta look out! She messes up any of my stuff one more time and I'll print her and have her arrested!"

Birman was torn between high amusement and acute pity for Yohji's mother. "Yes well you must remember your Christmas spirit," she advised. "You can't go sending your mother to jail during the holiday season. That would be a very Scrooge thing to do."

Yohji nodded in agreement. "You're right Miss Birman, I'll wait 'til New Year's." He grabbed the letter from her and ran back to his desk, eager to share his new-found joy with his classmates.

Birman sighed and called up her next student, Omi.

The small, blond boy slid onto the red stool, beaming from ear to ear. "My mom said Santa wasn't gonna write me no letters 'cause I never ate all my spinach soufflé but oh brother am I ever glad she's was wrong! Guess that's how much SHE knows 'cause Santa still likes me!"

"Of course he does," Birman replied kindly. "Santa likes all his children."

Omi's grin grew brighter, if such a thing was possible. "This is gonna be the best Christmas ever Miss Birman!"

"I hope so." Birman picked up Omi's letter and started to read it. "'Dear Omi. Thank you kindly for your letter. You don't need to apologize for the spelling mistakes since I know that you work very hard in school.'"

"I really do!"

"'I think that wanting to be a scientist when you grow up is a great choice and I will do my best to bring you the chemistry set you asked for. I can't promise that I'll be able to bring you some extra Bromothymal Blue and Hydrochloric Acid for your new beakers since the elves aren't allow to handle dangerous chemicals but I can safely say that there will be a whole bunch of new video games for your computer in your stocking this year. Have a wonderful Christmas Omi! From Santa Claus.'"

"Video games! A chemistry set!" Omi was so thrilled that he hugged Birman as hard as he could. "Thanks Miss Birman!"

Birman hugged the boy back. "I'm sure you'll have a wonderful Christmas, Omi."

"I'm gonna get chemistry!" the blond boy shouted, bouncing back to his desk.

Birman called Schuldich next.

"I'm super excited but Farf's not," Schuldich told his teacher, his eyes wide with disappointment. "He hates Santa and nothing I can say will make him happy. You won't be mean to him Miss Birman, will you? It's not his fault he's sad."

Birman looked at the worried boy and her heart softened. Schuldich was generally rude and nasty but beneath it all, he was a caring boy. He was very protective of Farfarello, defending the odd boy with a relentless sort of viciousness. "Of course not sweetie. We'll do our best to make him feel better, alright? I think if you're happy then he'll be happy also."

"Good. I don't like it when my best friend is sad. "

Birman smiled kindly and picked up Schuldich's letter. "'Dear Schuldich. Your letter made me very happy. Not a lot of children ask for presents for their friends. Thinking about other people is the true spirit of Christmas. You are a very good boy to write a letter for your friend. I will try my best to bring Farfarello the blender and electric mixer you suggested on his behalf. You're right, he isn't a bad boy, just a confused boy. I think you'll have a wonderful Christmas this year and I know there will be many wonderful presents for you under your tree. I look forward to visiting you this year Schuldich! Love from Santa Claus.'" Birman looked up from the letter. "That was a kind thing to do Schuldich., writing a letter for Farfarello. He is very lucky to have a friend like you."

Schuldich reddened a little. "No one else was gonna." He fidgeted with his hair. "You ain't gonna tell anyone except Farf are ya? I don't want people thinkin' I'm a wuss. I'm the boss of the schoolyard ya know!"

Birman hid a smile. "My lips are sealed. This will be our little secret."

"Thanks Miss Birman!" Schuldich headed back to his seat, pleased.

"Ran? Your turn honey."

"Go get 'em man!" Ken cheered, ramming his Hot Wheels dinky car into his math book.

Ran solemnly approached Miss Birman's desk.

"Are you excited Ran?" she asked the quiet boy. 

He nodded, studying the floor. Talking to adults always made him feel a little bit shy.

"Okay then, well let me start." She cleared her throat. "'Dear Ran. Thank you kindly for your letter! I must say that you do indeed print very well for a first grader.'"

A slight smile appeared across Ran's face.

"You do indeed," Birman agreed. She continued. "'You don't need to worry about your little sister since she also has been a good girl. Both of you are very good children. I don't know if I will be able to bring you an authentic Samurai sword since I might get in trouble with your mom but I will definitely bring you all the books you asked for. I'm very pleased that you like to read so much. I look forward to seeing you and Aya Christmas night! From Santa Claus.'"

"I like to read," Ran offered shyly and then suddenly frowned. "I'd take good care of a sword, if I got one. I'd polish it every day and I wouldn't let Aya ever touch it. Mom shouldn't tell Santa not to bring me a sword." 

"I'm sure your mom knows that you'd take good care of it," Birman soothed. "But Aya might not know to be as careful around it as you would. She's only still little and she might hurt herself."

Ran pondered that before nodding. "She is kinda a baby still. She wouldn't know any better. I wouldn't what her to get hurt."

"Of course not." She gave Ran his letter. "But it sounds like you'll get lots of presents all the same."

He nodded and sat back down with Ken. "Santa says I got good printing," he told the hyper brunette proudly.

"You're next Bradley."

Bradley strode up to the front of the classroom. "This is stupid," he fumed, folding his arms across his spotless blazer. "I'll bet _you_ wrote all these letters!"

Birman resisted the urge to roll her eyes, even though the boy wasn't far from the mark. She'd gotten her boyfriend to write the letters as she had dictated. "Don't be silly. Does this look like my writing?" She showed the boy his letter. 

"Clearly no but that doesn't prove anything." The dark-haired boy raised his chin arrogantly. "You may be able to fool all these babyish ignoramuses but you can't fool me. I _know_ there's no such thing as Santa Claus."

Birman scowled. "Need I remind you Bradley, that name-calling is in itself babyish?"

"Well you know what I mean Miss Birman!" Bradley cried, flushing.

"So you're saying that you don't want to read the letter Santa wrote for you?"

"Oh I'll read it if I _must_," Bradley condescended in a lofty tone. "But I'll feel _horridly_ foolish the entire time. It's all so juvenile really."

This time Birman did roll her eyes. 

Bradley whisked the letter from his teacher and read it silently to himself. His eyes widened behind his glasses. "Santa says he's going to bring me a new, more compact laptop and a pager!"

Birman arched an eyebrow.

"I mean that's just what it says here, I was only reading it," he said hastily, looking both flustered and embarrassed. 

"I understand," Birman replied seriously, trying not to laugh. "You're only reading it because you must." She knew she was being a bit mean but honestly, the boy was so _pretentious_. 

Bradley fled back to his seat, his cheeks burning. When Miss Birman wasn't looking, he reread the letter. A new laptop and a pager too! What a great Christmas this was gonna be!

"Nagi?"

The small boy ran up to her desk and climbed onto the red stool.  "I never got a letter from Santa in my whole life!"

"Well he is a very busy man."

Nagi bobbed his head in agreement. "He can't write to every single kid in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD can he?!"

"No he definitely can't. I guess you guys were lucky, huh?"

"Yeah I GUESS!"

Birman began reading yet another letter. "'Dear Nagi. Thank you so much for the letter you wrote me. I must also thank you for the detailed map of how to find your house you drew for me. It will be very useful come Christmas Eve.'"

"I highlighted my house so that Santa wouldn't miss it," Nagi informed Miss Birman. "I even put glow-in-the-dark stickers around it just to be extra sure!"

"That's very creative of you Nagi." Birman resumed reading. "'I will be sure to bring you supplies for your frog Mayfly as well as the new 'The Cat Burglar' movie, 'The Cat Burglar Burgles the Cat Burglary'. I have a bunch of other presents for you but you'll have to wait until Christmas morning to see what they'll be. Oh and don't worry, I like molasses cookies just as much as I like chocolate chip cookies. Have a very Merry Christmas Nagi! Love from Santa Claus.'"

"Neat-o mosquito Dorito!"

Miss Birman laughed. "Sounds like things will be quite exciting at your house come Christmas morning."

"Yeah I HOPE so!" Nagi scampered back to his desk, all fired up to tell Omi everything Santa had written to him.

"Okay Farfarello? Come up sweetie."

"Oh man alive no fair I'm LAST," Ken wailed, banging his head on his desk.

"I'm not going up." Farfarello glowered at Miss Birman. "I hate Santa and I hate his stupid letters and I hate Christmas!"

"Aw come on Farf," Schuldich wheedled, tugging at the surly boy's hand. "You gotta go up! Santa wrote a letter just for you! You just gotta go. For me? Please? We can do anything after school you want to, I promise! It won't be so bad, for real!"

Farfarello looked at his only friend. Schuldich looked sad in his eyes. Farfarello slowly shuffled to his feet. "I'm only going up 'cause you want me too."

Schuldich smiled gratefully. "Thanks Farfie. You won't be disappointed for sure!"

"What a weirdo," Yohji said in a low voice so that Schuldich wouldn't hear. "Who wouldn't wanna letter from Santa? You don't get letters from Santa every day you know!"

"Well clearly he's neurologically imbalanced," Bradley diagnosed in a snooty, know-it-all tone.

He received blank stares.

"The guy's bonkers," Bradley clarified, rolling his eyes.

Nagi giggled loudly. "Bonkie bonkers!"

"Bonkie boonkie bonkers!" Omi also started sniggering.

"I think they're the weird ones," Ken whispered loudly to Ran.

"I concur," Bradley chimed in.

Yohji made a noisy gagging sound and pretended to strangle Bradley behind his back. He hated the geek's stupid attitude.

Omi, Nagi and Ken all burst into hoots. 

Farfarello plopped down onto the red stool with an audible _thunk_. "I didn't even write a stupid letter," he grumbled, biting on his wrist.

"I know you didn't honey." Birman brushed a strand of dark hair from her cheek. "Schuldich wrote a letter for you."

Farfarello blinked his one good eye. "He did?"

"Yes he did. It was a very selfless thing to do. He's a very good friend."

"He lets me come to his house," Farfarello said, examining the bite marks on his skin. "I'm allowed to watch the toaster oven and play with his dad's shaver."

"Uh, that's quite lovely." Birman picked up his letter. "Shall I read it?"

Farfarello thought for a bit while squishing his bottom lip in his fingers. "Well okay."

"'Dear Farfarello. I know you're mad at me and for that I'm very sorry. I wish there was something I could do to make you truly happy but it seems that you've got a wonderful friend to do it for me. Schuldich was kind enough to write a letter for you. He cares very much and is a good friend. I shall do my best to bring all manners of things to you for Christmas, including your own blender, a turkey baster, sporks, and a tarantula. Maybe I'll see you on Christmas Eve night. Have a Merry Christmas Farfarello! Love from Santa Claus.'" Birman looked up and studied the boy. "Well? Was that so bad?"

Farfarello shrugged and blew glitter off of his grimy fingers. "I like sporks."

And Birman could get him to say nothing more.

"That was nice," Farfarello said squeakily, sitting down next to the orange-haired boy. "You're my best friend."

Schuldich beamed, his cheeks a tiny bit pink. "That's what friends do."

"Alright and lastly-" Before Birman could finish, Ken was already bouncing on the red stool, chatting his heart away. 

"Oh man ALIVE I hadda wait some long time Miss Birman! I nearly turned into a old geezer, kinda like my dad! His birfday was last Saturday and guess what? He turned THIRTY-FIVE! He OLD, like older than a ICE AGE! All the candles on the cake nearly made me BLIND! But holy mackerel I thought Santa was never gonna write me, ever since the time I punched that fat kid at the park who tried to sit on Ran! I got in big trouble for that, my mom nearly blew her STACK! She said Santa wasn't gonna bring me no presents but hah hah I guess that's how much she knows! 'Sides I was only trying to keep the justice, like how Spiderman does!"

Birman's head began to throb. "Well I suppose Santa knew that."

"Good thing too! Ran's my bestest friend in the whole WORLD and I gotta have his back. Even if that means gettin' into trouble, I gotta do it!"

Birman shook her head and had to laugh. The boy was so earnest. It was rather endearing actually. She picked up his letter. "'Dear Ken. Thank you for writing me such a long, detailed letter! I'm sorry to hear that you skinned your knee. I'm sure that it will heal in no time. I agree with you, building a tree house made of snow _would_ be very difficult but spring will be here in no time so you can build one made of wood with no problem. Sadly I must say that it is illegal for me to bring you supplies to make bombs and explosives so I can't bring you anything like that.'" 

"Aw man alive that was what I was hopin' for the MOST!"

"Well you wouldn't want Santa to go to jail would you?"

Ken's eyes widened. "No way man! But if that did happen then I'd hafta bust him out! I'd be the hero of the CENTURY!" He swung his legs, blinking rapidly. "Okay keep goin'."

"'But I do have a good deal of soccer and Spiderman things that I think you will enjoy. I will also see if I can bring you a metal detector so that you can find buried treasure but it might be tricky since those things go haywire around my sleigh. I'll see you Christmas Eve if you're not sleeping Ken! From Santa Claus.'"

"Holy moly maybe they should just rename metal detectors to SLEIGH detectors! I sure hope Santa brings me one 'cause me and Ran really wanna find some buried treasure in the woods! If we ever do find some treasure, I'll give you a dubloon Miss Birman! But you can't gimme anymore F's 'kay?"

Birman had to laugh. "We'll see."

Yanking the letter from her hands, Ken jumped back into his seat and promptly launched into a full-fledged description of everything that had occurred upon leaving Ran's side. 

"Okay then we're all done!" Birman stood up and beamed at her students. "What should we do now?"

"FFFFFFFFOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!"

"Food it is!"

~*~Author's Notes~*~

Phew that was damn long. It only took me three years to update this old chess nut. Wow go me. This sort of slothy inaction takes real discipline dammit!


End file.
